The Christmas Quickie
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Morgan has unique views about Christmas morning...Morgan/Garcia


_**Author's Note: We have a few announcements for year today. First, don't forget we have a new challenge open on the forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". Sign-ups for our January challenge, "The Happy New Year's Challenge" is open through December 30, 2010. We'd love to have each one of you. Simply swing by the forum (you can link to it thru our profile pages) and sign up with the pairing you'd like to see written and three prompts associated with the holiday. On Jan 1, 2011, you'll be assigned a random pairing (not the one you usually write) and three prompts to write by January 30.**_

_**Thank you so much to everyone that participated in the first year of our CM Christmas Fic Exchange! We had a blast reading each really fabulous story! **_

_**Finally, if any of you have any idea for issues/activities that you'd like to see "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum tackle in the form of discussion threads and/or challenges, please let us know. We want to bring you all some really fun threads in the New Year!**_

_**As always, thank you to every reader, reviewer, and person that favorites or alerts one of our stories. Hearing from each of you means a great deal to each of us. We truly value your thoughts and opinions. Now, on with our story!**_

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**The Christmas Quickie**

Derek Morgan had learned a few valuable tidbits in this crazy thing called life over the years. First, he had always been of the opinion that there was no such thing as bad sex. Simply couldn't happen. It was biologically impossible.

Sex was sex. And sex was goooood. Nah, sex was better than a paltry gooood...

Sex was fan-freaking-tastic!

Adversely, however, he did know that there was such a thing as really **GREAT** sex. The kind that made your eyes roll back in your head and had you telling the Lord to take you now because it simply did _not_ get better than what you'd just experienced at the hands of a sassy vixen with fiery red hair. Sweet Lord in heaven, even thinking about it could make him half there already.

And lastly, he knew what the all-time, honest to God, unsurpassed best sex of all time was. Yes, folks, it had a name.

It was called the Christmas quickie.

Oh, yeah, there was a time and place for the long drawn out love-making in the scope of things. That came on New Year's Eve night, when the champagne flowed like water and more than Dick Clark's ball was droppin' and rockin', thank you very much.

But where it came to the moment in question, that was to say, December 25th, it was a well-accepted fact in his marriage that he and his Penelope had perfected the art of the Christmas quickie.

And truthfully, there was nothing like that feeling on Christmas morning when you woke up to a bright sunshine filled room and realized that the best gift you had or would ever receive was lying right beside you in bed, her cheek nestled against her hand, her eyes still closed in slumber...that cute little dribble of drool leaking from her mouth. Wait, let's not tell her about that last part, shall we?

Those were the moments he lived for.

And then there was that equally important moment in said morning when you realized you had _maybe _fifteen minutes before the kids found you…and they were usually determined to have a version of holiday fun that altered dramatically and differently from what you envisioned.

Hence, the once a year Christmas quickie…otherwise known fondly as, "get it while you can" sex.

Rolling to his side, he feathered gentle kisses along the delicate line of her jaw as his hands wandered lazily over her body, sliding beneath fleece pants and his oversized sweatshirt she insisted on wearing to slide along her delectable body.

"Mmmmm," Penelope said with a hum, quickly waking with a smile as a talented hand slid along slick folds, arching her back against her husband of five years chest as she stretched lazily. "It _must_ be Christmas."

"The most wonderful time of the year," he sang against her ear as one hand covered her breast possessively.

His deep velvety voice breathing against her ear pulled an eager shiver from her as she turned in his arms. "We have to hurry," she giggled against his lips, her own hands starting to explore. "You know what happened to us last year," she warned huskily, her arm wrapping around his neck.

"Yeah, Santa's elves tried to break down the bedroom door in protest," Morgan grumbled, nipping Pen's lower lip as he pulled her closer.

"Who knew they were going to unionize the North Pole?" she giggled as Morgan's lips found the vulnerable skin above her collarbone.

"Shhh...less talkin', more lovin'. Santa's on the clock here, Baby Girl," Morgan demanded, rolling his wife beneath him with practiced ease. As if to illustrate his point, distantly a door opened and closed. Claiming her lips, he groaned as four eager hands hastily removed the necessary obstacles standing between them and ultimate satisfaction.

Moaning quietly against his warm lips as he made them one, Penelope clutched at the broad muscular shoulders above her. Breathing heavily as they strained toward release, she sank sharp teeth into his corded neck as passion claimed her, a kaleidoscope of colors exploding behind her closed lids.

Groaning against her neck as his own body spasmed above hers, Derek's own descent back into reality was abrupt and jarring as twin sets of hands landed furiously against their closed bedroom door.

"Daddy! Mommy! Santa came! Santa came!" their twin girls, Shelby and Charlotte, yelled loudly, their young voices not at all hindered by the wooden obstacle.

"He sure did," Penelope chuckled against Derek's sweaty chest as he collapsed against the pillows. "We'll be right out, Angels! Meet you by the Christmas tree!" she called back to her girls, slowly sitting upright in the tussled bed and grabbing her robe from the foot. Glancing over her shoulder, she winked at Derek. "C'mon, Santa! You've got another Christmas miracle to work in the living room."

And as he watched the woman of his dreams rise from the bed, Derek Morgan found the breath to say the same four words he delivered every year.

"Best Christmas quickie ever."

And he meant it every year.

**Finis**


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